


Closet Conundrum

by JJAster



Series: Henry Stole My Pen [3]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex’s apology to Martha, Beach Day, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Kinda, M/M, Mario Kart References, Mornings, Post-Canon, Shenanigans, Star Wars References, Visiting the palace, basically a normal day, they’re being stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:02:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25417375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJAster/pseuds/JJAster
Summary: Alex wakes up in the Royal Palace to a big breakfast, served bland in classic British fashion, and a boyfriend with a very important crisis taking over his entire life.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: Henry Stole My Pen [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837291
Comments: 11
Kudos: 106
Collections: Henry Stole My Pen





	Closet Conundrum

**Author's Note:**

> Like always, don’t take me or my story seriously in the slightest. I feel it getting more ridiculous by the second.
> 
> Also, someone suggested that Hugh Laughton Scott (A Model) looks like how they imagined Henry—tired eyes, british, blonde hair and all that. Now I can’t get that picture out of my head. Send help before I can look up any more pictures on Pinterest.

Let me paint you a pretty picture: 

Imagine the palace, with high ceilings and even higher standards for living. A crystal chandelier that Alex refuses to stand under and gold furniture in every empty corner they could find. 

Alex and Henry were visiting Princess Catherine and Bea over the weekend. 

It was a Sunday morning when Alex woke up to church bells ringing. 

The curtains were pushed wide open to let in the morning sun, with birds chirping in the Maple Tree outside—birds that would most definitely come singing at a Prince’s call—or at least that’s how Alex had always pictured it. 

With an adorable case of bedhead and the morning blues, Alex lay disheveled in Henry’s old bedroom. 

Stretching his legs and arms, he couldn’t help noting how big the bed was, it was both ridiculous and sad that the bed was meant for Henry to sleep in alone. 

Alone. That’s the emotion Alex felt when he woke up and Henry was nowhere in sight. 

He reaches for the chain around his neck, a habit he didn’t know he had picked up. When he held Henry's signet ring, the palace didn’t seem so scary anymore. He lets the ring fall back onto his chest, the cool metal of the key and the comfort of the ring steadying his heartbeat. 

Nevertheless, he did feel deprived of his good morning kiss. 

The only human interaction Alex had been a part of since he’d woken up was when a giggling maid came knocking with breakfast in bed for the consort. An assortment of food, that even Alex couldn’t possibly finish, served quite literally with a silver spoon. 

He had half a mind to ravage the entire platter, if Henry couldn’t stay with his boyfriend until he woke up, then Henry didn’t deserve food at all. 

Be that as it may, Alex simply couldn’t bring himself to eat the Jaffa cake. Not only because it was Henry’s favourite, but because it was disgusting and Alex couldn’t / wouldn’t stomach it. 

With a mouthful of bland oats and fresh berries, Alex checked his phone to read through the 44 messages Nora had sent him over the past hour and the one message from his mom reminding him to watch his mouth if he ran into any royalty. Understandable. 

Even though Martha had somewhat forgiven him after he sent her a box handmade cupcakes, with the words ‘Amende Honorable’ sloppily scrawled on the biggest one, the Queen still violently coughed and excused herself whenever Alex and Henry were seen together. 

As for Phillip, he’d been much kinder after Martha gave birth to the twins, he even sent a congratulatory bouquet to the two in Brooklyn for their one year anniversary. That said, when it came to the old Phillip, before he was the loving father to Henry’s two darling nephews, both Alex and Henry had sincerely hoped that Phillip was the one who ate the Cupcake David had slobbered all over. 

After licking the maple syrup off his fingers, Alex placed the empty plates and platter on the bedside table, pocketing the Jaffa cake. He relished in the glorious fact that he had just eaten breakfast and chugged his coffee without anyone pointing out that he hadn’t brushed his teeth yet. 

It was almost 10. Alex strolled to the walk-in closet to pick out some day clothes from his luggage. He had nothing planned, so by ‘clothes’ he most probably meant the hoodie he wore on the flight here. 

The moment Alex opened Alex opened the closet doors was when he got the fright of his life. Standing there was his previously AWOL boyfriend, with a towel wrapped around his waist, looking as perplexed as the day Alex wrote a food review on Yelp with the word “flavor” instead of “flavour.”

Ironically, Alex yelped in surprise, while Henry simply sighed in relief at the sight of him, “Oh love, thank god you’re here! I need your opinion.”

“Um, what?” Alex mumbled, currently recovering from the scare and coming to terms with half-naked Henry, piles of clothes all around him. 

“Your opinion, that thing you store in annoying amounts, I need it. Which swim trunks do you think I should wear to the Beach with Bea today?”

“I thought you were already at the Beach…” Alex said out loud, trying to calculate exactly how long Henry had been in this closet. 

“Well, clearly I am not at the beach. Now about the trunks…”

“Wait, what’s the big deal?”

“You might not remember, but the last time I publicly went out in nothing but my undergarments, a certain someone had a lot of things to say about my plethora of moles.”

Alex laughed at the memory. Good times. 

“Baby, that was before my historic sexual awakening. So I promise, the only thing I’ll think of now is how you’re hotter than all the incest your ancestors must’ve had with each other to give you those moles.” 

Henry stared death at Alex for a minute before they got back to topic. “Okay, yes! You were asking me for fashion advice, please continue,” Alex prompted, one hand covering his mouth. 

Henry harrumphed before carrying on, “So I’m battling between two choices—” And before he could finish his sentence, Alex’s eyes popped out of their sockets when Henry held up a pair Princess Peach swim shorts.

“No fucking way…my white shirt, boring tie and beige pants wearing boyfriend doesn’t not own Princess Peach merchandise!”

“I wore beige pants once! And calm down, Pez had gotten them for me years ago. He said we had a lot in common, both of us being princesses and damsels in distress. I did not find it funny, but you evidently do—stop laughing!” Henry exclaimed, his cheeks flushing and voice getting higher with every word.

Between snorts and chuckles, Alex managed to ask, “So w-what’s the second option?”

When Henry then held up a pair of shorts with Jar Jar Binks face all over it, it’s a miracle Alex didn’t dissolve into a puddle of tears. “Did Pez get you that one too?”

“Oh no! I got that one after watching Phantom Menace for the first time. The character’s rightful place is on someone’s arse, don’t you agree?”

“Definitely. Yeah, go with Jar Jar. No one needs Mario Kart ruined by seeing a beloved character covering your privates.”

“Jar Jar it is.”

A while later, after Alex has brushed the coffee and morning breath out of his mouth and Henry has brushed the Jaffa cakes out of his, they finally share their morning kiss. 

Then at the beach, Henry and Bea high five each other for unintentionally matching outfits…Bea wearing a gold two-piece with her hair braided to one side, emulating Princess Leia from Return of the Jedi. 

Alex, who had been invited to join them, wished he had chosen to stay back. Being all alone in Henry’s old bed doesn’t sound all that bad when you’re wearing Princess Peach swim trunks and hiding from the Paparazzi under a beach umbrella.

**Author's Note:**

> If Queen Mary dies of a mysterious heart attack on seeing those paparazzi pictures, the authorities better not coming knocking at my doors.  
> Thanks for reading the garbage that flows out of me so fast, I almost can’t pen it down in time. 
> 
> Comment s’il vous plaît :)


End file.
